Ravenous
by FlyFreeAndHard
Summary: Magic was contained and controlled, for centuries, millennia. She however is an entity of ever changing loyalties and workings. When an Old One awakens the promise of the old ways arises with it. However, humanity is a fickle thing, a flawed thing, and when all of this is tied to such a young creature, world orders will change. In all of this, do we still have the ability to love?
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my story, it's rated 'M' due to cursing, horror and specific themes. There'll be no smut due to the fact I'm not able to write it. This story will have themes in it that you will probably be able to link to Lovecraft and various Lore.**

**Harry potter isn't mine, it's that fabulous woman's J.K Rowling, whom supplied us with a childhood generations to come will envy.**

**Thank you for at least having a gander at my story!**

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Night. Night was comforting, night was soothing. There was something about it that was pleasurable, the possibility of throwing your head back and losing yourself was quite delicious in an almost…carnal sense. So, tugging her hair out of the red ribbon restraint, she made for the forest where she would merely walk and wander 'till she came across the tree she had become so fond of and then she would sit. Attempting to memorise the vast constellations, the exact percentage phase of the moon and maybe this time she might speak to a visitor.

"_One fine day in the middle of the night,_

_Two dead boys got up to fight."_

Singing languidly she traipsed through the under growth that was almost as familiar to her as the streets of the city was, her heavy leather boots crushing and snapping twigs and leaves alike. Her voice echoed off the tree's bodies and bows as she rhythmically tapped her fingers against her thumb; a spark dancing to life with each tap. Swaying with the harsh wind, her body almost resembling a snake, she reached and passed her own personal marker with baited breath. The broken yew tree still clung defiantly to life, a vicious crack slashed diagonally from left to right down the tree, it's roots thick and visible gripped the earth violently in an attempt to desperately hold on to life. The top most branches having long ago withered away to dried black bones knocked hollowly against one another. To her it sounded as if the tree was greeting her, reminding her through its mocking knocks and silent bitter jeering.

Early July was always strange in Edinburgh, festivals both Pagan and Christian would rise and dominate its soil, the weather would nearly mimic the unusualness of the two's co-existing relationship for that festive period. It would flare heatedly for a small while, the heat almost suffocating the natives whom were much rather suited and designed for harsher and colder weather- much like their Irish cousins, or it would freeze and shatter the brittle period of summer the people got; creating way for the near monsoon rain storms and the frigid gales.

Scotland was strange; its land had a mind of its own, lashing out in hormonal tantrums and short uplifting respites.

But it was her home.

"_Back to back they faced each other,_

_Drew their swords and shot each other."_

She had chosen it as her home, the streets of Edinburgh providing her with all she needed, the ever close and welcoming highlands offering a wild embrace whenever she could feel herself slipping and in it dwelled the people she would live and die for. This was her home. She couldn't see herself leaving, not knowing where she had been beforehand merely added to the need to hold on to her home, the familiar earth beneath her feet which she felt, every time, embrace her and embrace others who would listen to it.

A wild mass of long dark hair caught the waning moons half-light, bordering on almost matted it regularly snagged on the reaching branches but merely tore through the grasping fingers, the tangles having a much greater sense of solidarity than the twigs and branches that grasped at the swaying black mass.

"_A deaf policeman heard the noise,_

_And went to kill those two dead boys."_

She felt off balance, a strange unfamiliar feeling swelled in her belly; her tapping fingers increasing to a speed where a spit of fire danced across her fingertips. Her intuition was sparking; her matted dark hair practically sparking with her unsettlement. Something strange was coming, she could feel it in her bones, hear it in the winds and in the whispers of the trees as the forest sang to her; a change was coming. If the forest sang to you, it was a foreboding. The forest is a constant, stable entity, a unique patchwork of millions of lives; all co-existing to form one greater being. If change was coming, she would warn you, for to the forest change was rarely good or beneficial.

"_If you don't believe my lie as true,_

_Ask the blind lady she saw it too."_

Still singing she gave no indication of her slight distress, of the niggling feeling in the pit of her belly. As she meandered past the empty rabbit hole she subconsciously counted down the twenty seven footsteps it would take until she would reach her favourite spot.

Growing irritated with the feeling taking root inside her she flicked her hand; killing the dancing spit of flame that had been previously playing on her fingertips. Another few steps and she was at her spot. An oak stump that would have been a relatively young oak tree… in tree terms of course. It was only about two foot in width, the surface smooth enough to rest on, rough enough to gain the attention on curious finger tips. She faced the east, just as she did every time she sat here, always facing the east she reminded herself; to the sunrise and to the promise of another day of life.

She was tired, her muscles ached and her eyes itched. This week had been long and much too long to allow the small hours of sleep she had actually gotten to go unpunished. There had been far too much to do and too little time to actually do it, but she had gotten it done in the end with nought more to attest to her achievement than a few scratches and bruises. She let out a small sigh and harshly rubbed her face. She was no fool, not in matters such as these, she knew that it was just a matter of time until retaliation came to her door but there was nothing she could do in reality for it was a necessary job that she didn't have a safe option to turn down. She would just have to survive against the threat that was indefinitely being sent against her, and then prove her worth... Again. Gods' she was tired, so blooming tired. Her figure hunched over to an extent where her matted hair pooled on her knees, resting like that for a moment she released a breath and straightened her shoulders.

She rolled her shoulders allowing them the pops and cracks that loosened them, and in doing so she felt some of the tension that had been building slowly ebb away. She would be fine, she could feel that certainly, whatever change was coming it would prove as a distraction to some extent.

The forest's song stopped almost unnoticed, one minute it's song was a current running through her head yet now there was just the sound of animals and the rustling of leaves, no whispering and no soft almost inaudible music, there was however a new sound. She straightened her back as it drew closer, it felt... Different. An owl came into view, swift and sure it headed straight for her. Immediately she cocked her head in surprise and suspicion, she had spent many a night in this forest, on this very oak stump and owls were always wary of other creatures. She studied the large tawny owl, it had a large wingspan as she could hear the air being pushed and repelled as it flapped its wings, and she could see the flecks of gold in its feathers but what was most peculiar was the fact this strange owl was holding a letter that was promptly propelled into her lap.

Raising an eyebrow she stared at the parchment on her lap and promptly returned her attention to the rather obnoxious owl that was steadfastly imprinting the very clear message that it was superior to her as it sat rather imperiously on a nearby branch. Plus, she was adamant that she saw the tawny beast eye her hair disdainfully.

'Cheeky little bugger...' She thought absentmindedly as she fingered the letter in front of her, 'This is really weird.' she flipped the letter over to check where it was sent from, and not even an ink blot was present. 'If I open it, does it count as an agreement?' referring to the change that she felt coming, she could feel that it was all contained in this letter. This was the start of it she was sure.

Taking a small measured breath she flipped the letter right-side forward again and quickly tore it open. Two pages of finely cut parchment fell out. 'Parchment, who the bloody hell uses parchment anymore?' Gripping the parchment roughly she read the letter, then re-read the letter, then read it all over again.

"_To Miss Raevyn_

_Oak stump in Holyrood forest._

_Edinburgh_

_Scotland_

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL_

_of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY _

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Raevyn,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress"_

'Well Jesus H Christ... That explains an awful lot!' She read over the names of the people on the letter of... Acceptance. Albus Dumbledoor and Minerva McGonnagall, 'They sound like wizards.'

She physically restrained herself from slapping herself in the face due to that horrendously moronic statement, but only did so because of the owl that was still eying her with undisguised distaste and she did not want the beast to gain the upper hand.

'Little fucker! I'll send him back to this bloody wizard school like a roast chicken!' Admitting to herself she didn't exactly know how to do that she realised that she was at a loss at what to do, how was she to reply to these people before July 31st? It was around the 10th of

July now! Around that... She was about as good as keeping track of the days as she was at keeping her hands in her own pockets and not in others, and she was shite at that.

A familiar genderless voice spoke in her mind at that exact moment, _'Write back child.'_

So she did. Standing up rather abruptly, causing the owl to glare at her reproachfully, she fished for the old small black and yellow pencil that dwelled within the pocket of these jeans. Rising victorious she flipped the actual acceptance paper over and scribbled quickly.

"I accept. I require assistance; meet at Holyrood forest gates tomorrow at 12."

Forgoing the usual formality of signing a name she pocketed the list of necessities and pondered how to get the damn owl to cooperate. 'Could I magic the beast down here? No I'd probably kill the damn thing..." She just stared at the damn thing for a few moments, the two having a standoff and battle of wills; she of course was considering herself to have the upper hand.

'_Command it.'_ The voice advised emotionlessly.

'Well it couldn't hurt I suppose,' she thought as her fingers teased the letter, 'worse comes to worst, the beast will just think me stupid... And it already does...' She squared her shoulders and straightened her back before holding the parchment out to the owl.

"I have a letter; take it back to the headmaster." Feeling entirely foolish for just commanding an owl to do that she almost dropped her hand, however remaining stubborn to kept it and the letter in the air.

The owl stared for a moment before ruffling its feathers and lifting into the air, diving straight for her, the owl swerved at the last minute gripping the letter from her hand just as it turned. She watched the beast fly in the direction from which it came, and stood at a loss.

'Well what the bloody hell do I do now?' At a complete loss she stood still, finding it was almost best not to move if you didn't know what you were doing. 'Any ideas of what I should do?'

Directing the question to the independent voice in her head, after waiting a few moments and still receiving no response she sighed and decided to just go home. She'd have to speak to mama Lani about this anyway; especially if she was going to be leaving for a while!

It never did take her all that long to get home, all it took was a thought of home and she would 'travel' to it and be there in a matter of seconds. She'd no idea how she did it but found she couldn't give a damn about the science of it, she imagined a place and voilà; she'd be there! Turning the last corner of three story terrace houses she slipped into the estate where mama Lani lived, the estate was built on a multitude of hills so she always found it interesting to look at when she turned this corner. It was a working class estate through and through, the flags adorning the lamp posts and the painted kerbs showed to an outsider, that this was a low class, benefit claiming group of people. They'd be right of course but she couldn't give a rat's ass, number 17 was a single mother with 5 young children -every child's surname was different from the last, but the young mother had given her a loaf and a 2 litre carton of milk when Lani had expressed concern about food.

Number 32 was a fella not much older than her, who had managed to claim the benefits he needed to rent the house he was living in. At first he was placed there by the housing benefit but he had managed to find a job and get the help needed to rent the house instead. He wasn't a bad fella Ciaran, what had happened was his mother had had enough of his father's abuse so she had run off, leaving Ciaran with him. His father had lost his job due to the recession and had started drinking, out of both boredom and frustration but being the only other person in the house, Ciaran took the brunt of his father's frustration. Living with him for four years after his father lost his job, Ciaran moved out when he was 17 and lived on the streets for a while, before a stroke of luck where he ended up here and has been here for three years. Both she and Ciaran had sat in his scarcely decorated living room, consisting of a couch, a TV and a box with a blanket over it to serve as a table, many a time with their curry chip and watched the soaps.

She'd have to call in and explain things to him before she left tomorrow, in case she didn't come back straight away.

Passing Ciaran's house she was tempted to walk on in now and see how he was but she knew mama Lani would give her a clout across the head, so she headed to number 33 and rapped the door. Within seconds the door was flung open.

"Child how many times am I to tell you to come on in?" Lani exclaimed before gently grabbing her wrist and trailing her into the kitchen, "And by the looks of you, you haven't bothered to have a decent meal."

Levelling her fierce brown eyes on her Lani pinned her where she stood, shaking her head, the sort of matted dread lock hair of hers ruffled slightly. Looking to the ground in utter chastisement she mumbled, "No Lani."

Mama Lani tutted in reproach before placing her in a seat and placing food before her, "How many times Raevyn have I told you? A car cannot run on fumes child, just as you cannot run, and quite literally might I add, with nothing in your stomach!"

_'The woman is right child; it is paramount that you care for your health.'_

Mentally huffing childishly Raevyn mumbled back to the voice, 'What's with all this child business! I'm eighteen thank you very much!' While that was mentally muttered with courage she did not however possess the courage to say that to mama Lani so she merely tucked into the stew that was placed before her; only now realising that she was in fact ravenous. Lani meanwhile bustled about the kitchen, doing only gods knows what but still, for such a small woman she made an enormous amount of noise.

She was a small, stout woman at the middle age of fifty six, her chestnut brown hair was slightly peppered with silver and was pinned back in a bun with small curly wisps flying about her face- she never could figure out if they were deliberate or not. A floor length black gypsy skirt trailed against the Lino floor, the multicoloured threading peaked shyly throughout it but sat perfectly with the small multicoloured butterfly's that were spotted throughout mama Lani's hair. Raevyn smiled as she took in mama Lani's attire, from the gypsy skirt to the knitted flyaway cardigan she wore, she was still the free spirit she was when she was young. Still a scary woman though, always that first.

"Lani, I received a letter today." Pushing her empty plate aside, she waited for mama Lani's response.

Giving her full attention to Raevyn she sat opposite her, "Oh? And what did this letter say?

"I have been offered a place in a school."

The rise of an eyebrow was her only response so Raevyn continued.

"I have accepted the offer, I start officially on September 1st but a teacher from the school is coming tomorrow to take me to get a few necessary items for the year."

Mama Lani did not give an immediate response; she merely interlinked her fingers and placed her hands on the table before her, her brow creased in thought and her eyes staring intensely into Raevyn's own eyes. After a heavy silence Lani spoke in an even tone; which Raevyn was hugely thankful for.

"Can I see that letter Raevyn?"

Immediately diving into her pocket to retrieve the letter of acceptance but only coming up with the list of necessary books and equipment she floundered for a second before just handing that sheet over to Lani. Mentally bludgeoning herself for using that piece of paper to respond.

Taking it without a word mama Lani read it carefully, internally slightly exasperated that this wasn't the actual letter of acceptance, rather some strange book and equipment list.

"What happened to the actual offer of acceptance Raevyn? This means little to nothing to me without that first and foremost. Strange as this is."

Still floundering she gave a brief recount as to what the letter said, half of her brain was giving its attention to mama Lani but the other half was completely astounded that this small woman, whom was of no relation to her, was able to make her feel like an irresponsible child. Admittedly it probably wasn't the best idea to use that particular piece of paper to respond.

Once again Lani merely sat across from her and thought intensely and with a stone face. After a couple of tense moments though she finally voiced her thoughts to Raevyn.

"You are absolutely sure that is no farce child? You are one hundred percent sure that this letter is genuine and whomever you are meeting tomorrow is not actually some lunatic child molester that is praying on the young's desire for something magical?"

Always to the point so she was, half of her wanted to smile at Lani's bluntness though she fought to hold her serious facial expression, "One hundred percent Lani, there is not a doubt in my mind."

Giving a firm nod of her head mama Lani rose from her seat, "Nor is there one in mine child. I always knew you were special. And of course... There was that time my curtains mysteriously caught fire when Tracy Barlow managed to get out of prison for the second time." Chuckling slightly Lani smirked at Raevyn, "She never was a favourite of yours, sure she wasn't Hun?"

Fighting the insane blush that was threatening to completely overwhelm her dusty complexion, "I need to go and tell Ciaran, I'll be back soon. Maybe in an hour or two."

Turning back to the stove where Raevyn was sure she was making something for tomorrow's dinner, Lani waved her hand dismissively, "Stay with the boy, child. He's grown quite fond of you. This old woman is perfectly content with her own company, now off you go!" Without looking back to Raevyn Lani waved her off. "Don't you enjoy yourself too much with that boy though!"

Raevyn practically fled from the house, hearing the implication in mama Lani's words and her smirk; her face burned an amusing shade of cherry, well as close to that colour as it could get. As soon as her boot set foot on the tarmac she lit up a much needed cigarette. Mama Lani was always teasing her about Ciaran but there was no way! For instance he was twenty-one, coming twenty-two! There was no way he would see anything in her, they were just good mates! She had just turned eighteen a few months back; there was just no way it was ever going to happen. Though that's not saying he wasn't good looking, he was, nor is it saying that he wasn't an amazingly lovely person- he was. It was just... Well it was never going to happen! Though maybe... She wouldn't say no of course. Giving a violent shake of her head to sort her thoughts, Raevyn meandered round to number 30; Ciaran's house.

It wasn't anything spectacular; just the same as mama Lani's house really, the bog standard council house. Though she smiled as she remember all the times she's had in that house since she came here, her and Ciaran's drunken escapades, their self-piercings, the nights sitting with a curry chip watching Corrie... They were her happiest moments; they were the happiest things she could remember. She didn't want to leave, she didn't want to leave and come back at some point and Ciaran barely remember her. She'd burn the place down, level the neighbourhood if mama Lani or Ciaran forgot her. Fuck magic school... She'd reduce the place to dust. They were her world, they were all she had. She had no memories from 14 and under, they were all she had.

Shaking her head again in an attempt to settle her heart and mind, she knocked on his door and waited, trying to calm her thumping heart. In a matter of seconds the door was ripped open, and she was gripped in an agonising bear hug.

"Rae-Rae! Just the little birdy I wanted to see!" He exclaimed as he carried her via bear hug into the living room.

"I've missed you! You were gone too long Rae!" Scrutinising her from their bear hug position he frowned. "You're hurt."

"We'll bloody well let me down then for fucks sake!" Her yell was muffled slightly by his chest, her head normally just reaching his pec's was actually on his collarbone due to her still being held in a bear hug.

Plopping her down on the sofa he stared at her, and she fought the urge to squirm. Ciaran stood at 6"3, which dwarfed her 5"4 frame. Standing with his arms crossed his ratty Led Zeppelin T-shirt stretched taut over his chest and she nearly forgot to breath. She knew he was ripped; broad shoulders, toned stomach and delicious V lines, she'd seen it before, heck they'd both sat in the bare minimum of clothes loads of times during one of their boozers but this was different. She was officially appreciating his lean, boxer frame. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, her heart was fluttering so ridiculously she was sure she would be sick and she could smell his aftershave from here and her mouth watered. What the fuck was going on?

'Magic, it's this bloody magic business. It's bollocks'ed up my brain!'

She settled to just raise her eyebrow at him and prayed that her face wasn't bright red or that she wasn't panting like a bitch in heat at him.

He frowned in response and puffed out a shot of air, "What happened?"

Sighing, Raevyn relented and patted the sofa, "It was just a job, they wanted something off an old client and I was in no position to refuse."

Sitting down beside her Ciaran sighed and left it at that, there was nothing he could do to fix the situation. That was her game, her area and he would be useless; and that took an immeasurable amount of effort to admit, even if it was just to himself.

Plucking up a dread lock of her jet black hair and whirling it round his finger he tugged it playfully. To which she responded in a snigger and a slap on the leg.

"What has you over Rae? Not that I'm not happy to see you... But you have that face on you..."

"Well thank God for that! Imagine showing up at your door with no face! You'd piss yourself and I'd have to suffer the embarrassment of being there while you pissed yourself!"

Chuckling he tugged at her hair again, "You know what I mean, there's something troubling you."

She studied him, his legs were thrown out languidly and covered in dark jeans, worn and ripped at the knees. His ratty T-shirt stretched taut and hovered just over his midriff due to his position, showing his pierced navel- the black spike she'd picked out sat out against his pale skin rather deliciously. The snakes and lizards, panthers and old Sumerian symbols he'd painstakingly researched, the jungle scenery, the odd wyvern thrown in too, all bright colours inked up and down his arms and she knew they slithered up to his shoulders and down the blades. His tattoos teamed with colour and life. A piercing to the right of his lip which he regularly played with, as he was jiggling it about with his tongue at this very moment in fact she noticed. Small black stretchers lay in his ears and a pierced eyebrow diagonal to his lip piercing shone dully. His hair a dusty sand colour had recently been chopped into the fuzz he was sporting now, and she was dying to run her hands through it. This was Ciaran, her Ciaran. He wouldn't abandon her, he wouldn't forget about her. She just prayed he took this well.

"I'll be going away for a while," avoiding his gaze she continued, "I got a letter to go to this school."

She felt him shift away from her, "For how long is this?"

"I don't know to be honest... A professor from the school is coming tomorrow to take me to get materials so I can go."

Looking up at him she saw how he'd turned away from her, his hands on his lap while he bit his lip.

"And you just decided to go then? To just up and leave for God knows how long to study at some posh school?"

He was hurt, she'd hurt him and it was killing her, she'd tell him everything to make him understand, she couldn't leave tomorrow with him hurt because of her.

"It's not like that Ciaran, I have to go-"

Grabbing her hand he finally looked at her, "No you don't! You don't have to do anything, since when do you let anyone dictate what you do? Stay here Rae-Rae."

Gripping his hand back just as tight she held his gaze as she tried to make him understand, "No this time I do. This isn't a normal school, it's a school where I can go to get control."

He tried to pull his hand away but she held firm but he screwed his eyes up and practically growled, "Fuck. A special school? You're being sent to a-"

She blocked him out and shut her eyes, if he wouldn't listen to her she'd bloody well show him and make him listen. She concentrated and focused in what she wanted, he always loved being outside in gale force winds with her so she'd create them. Within seconds gale force winds were ripping through Ciaran's living room and in the back of her mind she registered he had stopped talking. Opening her eyes she stared at him. He looked at her as the gales swirled around them and Raevyn threw her head back with a grin on her face, her jet coloured hair whirled about her wildly. She looked happy, so happy and free he knew then that he couldn't ask her to stay, he couldn't keep her away from that, whatever that was... Magic or something?

The gales settled down to slight breezes and she calmed her excited frantic breathing and looked at him, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide, her chest heaving and her hair all wild; she looked so uninhibited that even as his heart cracked he knew she'd have to go to this place.

"I have to go Ciaran," the grip she had on his hand softened and she looked at him, all evidence of the late gales gone as the final breezes drifted away, "I need to learn this stuff."

He fought the urge to be selfish and plead with her to stay here, and he knew that she probably would if he did, but he couldn't. Not after seeing that, not after seeing how free she was.

"You're not allowed to forget me." He may be twenty one years of age but she was all he really had.

He almost regretted saying it as he saw her light caramel; hazel eyes fill with tears instantly.

"No. You're not allowed to forget me!" Was all she was able to choke out as silence settled around them.

He sighed before picking her up and hugging her to him, feeling her instantly grip onto him and press her face into his neck as she burrowed further into his lap. He'd never forget her, how could he! But she was going to some place where magic was real, Jesus Christ there'd be fucking dragons and unicorns for all he knew, and he was just plain old ordinary human, how could she not forget him amongst that world? He gripped her tighter as be placed his forehead on top of her head.

"I'll not forget you; this place I'm going to isn't my home. It's just some school, but here, this estate, you and Lani, you're my home." Her voice sent vibrations through his neck and up into his jaw, "I will always come back here, I will always come back."

They sat in silence for a while. Raevyn comfortable on his lap with her face in the crook of his neck and Ciaran with his face pressed into her hair, trying to memorise her scent that was uniquely her.

Breathing in a breath of him Raevyn shifted, "Besides! I'm a home bird aren't I?"

Both laughing they relaxed and released each other, she climbed off him to go and find her purse that she'd left here, scratch that, that she kept here. Returning a moment later victorious she held up her purse and grinned at Ciaran.

"Shall we go get pissed?"

Grinning in return he rose from his sofa and grabbed his jacket, "After you m'lady!" Bowing theatrically he followed as she laughed her way down the hall.

"Why thank you kind Sir!" Opening his front door she curtsied before leaving the house. Waiting until he had locked the door they set off on their quest to the nearest off-licence to get the materials needed to get completely and utterly pissed.

Returning with both alcohol and sustenance they laid their catch on the floor, and surveyed their success. Two bottles of Absolute vodka- ten glasses respectfully. Goldschlager in there for herself as well as the odd alco-pop and a case of beer for Ciaran too. Couple that with their Chinese and kebab, they had returned victorious from their hunt and settled in to get entirely pissed. Sitting Indian style in the middle of Ciaran's living room they started with the Vodka and their take-outs.

"So... You do magic then?"

Snorting she munched on a chip, "I suppose so."

"That's a shit answer! 'I suppose' she says! You made my living room look like a cyclone! I'd say the correct response to that question would be a resounding 'yes.'"

Grinning she downed her glass and poured herself another, "Well why'd you ask then if you already knew the answer?"

Levelling her with a glare Ciaran tore a piece of lamb off his kebab before feasting on it. "How long have you been able to do it...? Magic... Whatever!"

Shrugging her shoulders Raevyn poured herself another glass, "Forever I suppose. I don't remember ever not being able to do it, does that count?"

Grabbing a bottle of beer he threw his free hand up in exasperation, "You're so blasé about it for fucks sake! You, Rae-Rae, can do magic! Fucking magic! Not bullshit rabbit out of the hat tricks magic, no! The real deal shit!"

Throwing one of her chips at him she fixed him with a look, "Would you rather I run about the streets setting things on fire, ripping up trees and turning water into wine?"

"You could do that?" He scrutinised her fiercely.

Shrugging her shoulders she contemplated it briefly, "I suppose, I worked out that if I focus on wanting something to happen then it does, something's are trickier than others and something's just hurts like a bitch whenever I try it but I suppose I could."

He tongued his lip ring for a minute before looking up at her through his lashes, and she knew he'd done it on purpose but fuck... She didn't care.

"Could you show me? Anything at all!"

She almost wriggled under his intense stare but she couldn't say no, he sounded too excited and she already felt guilty for not telling him beforehand; he obviously would have taken it well. So she set her curry chip down in front of her and held her hands, palm facing up towards the ceiling, out and focused on the space in her hands. A slight pressure built in her head before escalating to a slight headache but a spark of emerald green energy flared to life like a tiny star in her hands. Hovering in the cradle of her hands she focused on it to try and enlarge it, it flared larger as if it was breathing, it being the size of a small football now. Seeing the emerald colour changing to a lighter hue she focused on it trying to shape it, like a sculptor would with clay. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple and her head felt like it would explode but the green spark thinned out and lengthened, coiling into the shape of a snake, a flaring vivid green snake raised its head and hissed at Ciaran enquiringly before her headache became too much and she lost it.

Reaching for the bottle of vodka immediately she uncapped it and downed a good few slugs of it, the burn nearly cutting her throat, before looking to see Ciaran's reaction. Sitting with wide eyes, a grin and inched forward he laughed in delight before she closed her eyes in pain again.

"That was fucking amazing!" He leant forward and grinned, "How did you- and it hissed! It fucking hissed and holy shit! That was-"

She opened her eyes to see why he'd stopped so abruptly to find him staring at her intensely; she tried to smile reassuringly at him but only managed a grimace as her head seared. He raised his hand and held the side of her head, unconsciously leaning into his hand she closed her eyes as she tried to get rid of the pain in her skull.

"It hurts you? To do magic?" His voice was soft as he threaded his fingers into her hair.

Breathing in as her head eased somewhat she opened her eyes to look at him, "It only hurts the first time I try something new, but it gets better and easier every time I do it."

Ciaran nodded before smirking, "So like sex then?"

Immediately throwing another chip at him she fought to control the blush that flamed across her face, "Shut up you bloody moron!"

Rolling back laughing he fought tears, absently he noted how those tall four glasses of vodka and bottle of beer were beginning to kick in.

Her face flaming she held her face in her hands, "I can't believe you just said that! Oh my God you're such a guy!"

Rolling onto his side to stare at her incredulously, she couldn't help but notice through the crack in her fingers the glimpse of his midriff, "Well I'm fucking thrilled you've just finally realised this!"

Lifting her head to eat her chips she flicked her hand in his direction muttering about males and their sex drive, a tiny shock jolted him and he stared at her with wide blue eyes.

"What?" Her own eyes growing significantly larger in an attempt to look innocent.

"You shocked me!"

Looking surprised she shook her head, "I never! You're losing it! Maybe this has scrambled your brain."

Narrowing his eyes he raised himself up and crawled towards her slowly, shoulder blades swaying like a hunting lion. "You did. You shocked me. I'm going to have to get you back you know."

Scooting back a bit she too narrowed her eyes, "Stay there! Don't you move!"

Ignoring her he stalked towards her slowly, precisely in his movements. "You used your magic on me. Retaliation is owed Rae-Rae."

"Fuck off!" Shimming back with her bottle she glared at him, "Don't take another... Just, stop!"

Grinning at her he did. Before pouncing on her and pinning her to the floor and then preceded to tickle her till she had tears running down her face, her screaming probably had the whole estate at the windows waiting for the cops to make an appearance...again. Ciaran's deep rumbling laugh joining hers, just before she was sure she would pee herself she hauled her knees up and kicked him off her and leant up against the couch trying desperately to breathe. Ciaran still rolled about the floor laughing, she opened her bottle again and tipped it only to realise there was none left. Snorting she threw away the empty bottle before going for her bottle of Goldschlager.

Swigging some she both winced and smiled as it burnt her throat, "Glorious! Whoever thought first to put cinnamon in to vodka are gods!" Swigging it again she looked to Ciaran who had stopped chuckling and was lying watching her.

Holding her hand out she wordlessly offered him a swig of her drink. Shaking his head to decline silence descended on them for a few minutes, Ciaran just lying there and Raevyn chasing the small gold particles in her drink with her eyes.

"You have to promise, come back tomorrow; don't let them keep you there."

Looking over to him she felt sad again. That was the down side of alcohol, it always gave you a roller coaster ride of emotions. She slowly shuffled over to where he was lying on the carpet, trying to keep her balance, and lay down beside him.

"I promise I will."

Turning and curling so her forehead touched his chest she closed her eyes and just floated with the weightless feeling the drink was giving her. Feeling him shift so he was angled towards her she let herself free fall, her body feeling like it was submerged and slowly summersaulting. Her fingertips brushing his T-shirt to reassure herself he was there, Ciaran's thumb rubbed the tattoo on the outside of her wrist. Here was where she felt safe. Here was home.

Her head hurt. Fuck her head really hurt. Lifting her head slowly she took in her surroundings; they were still in the middle of the floor, still curled round each other. A blush flamed across her skin, not for the first time she felt grateful for the fact blushes didn't show easily on her skin. Lifting her hand to rest it beside Ciaran's face she noted, not for the first time, the stark contrast of the two colours. He sported a very pale golden colour while she was coloured a dusty mocha colour, only years spent in the Scottish climate had paled her slightly. She felt rather out of place whenever she did this, her colouring being so strange, especially in their estate.

_"You have somewhere to be child."_

"Balls!" Leaping up to try and find her phone to check the time she quickly doubled over in pain, it would seem that her drinking had done nothing for her aches and bruises.

Reacting to her shout Ciaran too leapt up into sitting position, one side of his hair flattened due to sleep and the other half spiked up in all directions- well as much as his fuzz could. Eyes wide and glazed he whipped his head round in confusion only to find Raevyn curled up on the floor.

"Rae?"

She almost chuckled, he was most definitely not a morning person, he'd need one of his special coffees before he was functional.

"I'm late." Was all she said as she tried to get her breathing under control, it was her ribs that were in the most pain.

Flopping back to the floor Ciaran groaned, "Tell'em to fuck off!"

Chuckling she slowly uncurled herself, "Can't. I have to this time, remember?"

Standing up and slowly pulling her leather jacket over her dark blue wife beater she slowly, very very slowly, shook her head so not to aggravate her hangover.

"I can't be late. What time is it anyway?" Rooting through her pockets for her phone she almost set the thing on fire when the light of the screen nearly seared her eyes, "Jesus fucking Christ I'm dying!"

"All the more reason for you not to go now, go tomorrow." His words muffled by his arm almost amused her, if it didn't make her heart hurt.

"I can't. Their commutation systems are jacked."

Removing his arm from across his face he merely looked at her and raised his pierced brow. She refrained from biting her lip at him.

"They use owls! Tell me how I'd reschedule this bloody meeting? Do you see an owl about here right now?"

Studying her for a few moments he snorted, "You're shitting me! Owls?"

Pulling her boots on she nodded, "Owls."

"So how are you going to keep in contact when you get there?" She nearly grinned, "Lani will murder you if you don't."

She turned her head away so not to show how much that hurt, this time she did bite her lip, just to keep herself from getting any more emotional. Nearly freaking out when she felt her hair being tugged she whipped round to find him looking at her intently.

Tugging her hair via a shake of her head, out of his hand she pulled her loose dreadlocks and hair into a thick ponytail and secured it with her ribbon.

"So will I if you don't." Still she avoided his eyes, "I won't let you leave this house if you don't promise to stay in contact with me Rae-Rae."

Looking at him for a second before tying her laces she nodded, "I promised didn't I?"

"But I'm asking you to make another promise."

From her position of tying up her laces she could see his arms and the numerous scars that were almost invisible through the tattoos.

"I promise."

She heard his breath whoosh out of him in a sigh of relief before straightening up and hugged him. His arms wrapping around her like the snakes he was so fond of.

"I have to go; I'm going to be late."

Releasing her he nodded, before his face split into a grin, "Bring me back something magical!"

She merely laughed before stepping out of his reach and disappeared, leaving Ciaran flabbergasted as he stared at the spot she once was.

"We'll fuck me!" Was all he mumbled out before going into his kitchen to make himself one of his special coffees.

Landing just outside the park she immediately checked her phone, before gathering the time she doubled over and fought the urge to vomit.

'Note to self. Never do that while hungover!'

Groaning out a few choice words she slowly stood up when the nausea passed and once again checked her phone. Cursing she saw it was ten past twelve. Sure she had missed them she almost went straight back to Ciaran's, after all a wizard would always be on time, right? Sighing she sat down and decided to wait till half past, if they came then she'd just pretend she had the decency to show up early never mind on time.

Another fifteen minutes had passed before she heard a pop and felt her ears pop in result. Standing up from her position on the ground she stared at the wizard... Er... Witch since this magical person was clearly a woman.

Reasonably tall with a severe tight bun at the top of her head, the silver colour of it gleamed in the daylight; the witch's clothes looked more like robes. A deep emerald and red melding and whirling subtly with the edges outlines in thin gold rope.

'Looks like a wizard- witch! Whatever!'

The woman set her eyes on Raevyn and raised a grey eyebrow at her, her steel blue eyes dulled with age they may be but still almost managed to pin Raevyn where she stood before Raevyn herself lined her spine with steel and raised one back in challenge

"Miss Raevyn?" Her voice was crisp, her strong Scottish lilt adding to her severity.

Nodding her head and crossing her arms Raevyn squared her shoulders, "And you are?"

It was a battle of wills, two incompatible forces meeting and refusing to retreat. The witch looked down her nose at the shorter witch before answering.

"Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall."

Raevyn wasn't impressed, she didn't think she liked this woman, no idea why, she could be a bloody brilliant witch for all she knew but she could feel that she wasn't what the professor had been expecting and she didn't like it. What was going on? Before she could ask the professor voiced it.

"This is most unusual, those letters are only sent to our would-be first years, and you clearly are no first year."

'No shit.' She muttered mentally before answering, "So you're saying someone made a mistake and I haven't been accepted?"

Her heart stopped, now that she'd been made aware of this magic school she wanted to go. The professor however shook her head.

"There are never any mistakes, the castle itself sends the letters. You are merely an oddity."

Raevyn bristled at that. Merely an oddity? That's all she was? Really! If she didn't really want to go to this bloody school she would of disappeared right then.

"Nevertheless you have received a letter and you have accepted, therefore the contract that each pupil makes with the school has been sealed. You are now a pupil of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry and it is our duty to assist you in acquiring the appropriate materials necessary for the upcoming school year."

Feeling the lead vanish from her stomach and her heart do a summersault she almost grinned but only stared at the professor.

"Well come along then!" Staring at the Scottish professor's outstretched hand Raevyn merely raised her eyebrow at it.

"Do you wish to go to Hogwarts or not?"

With a minutes hesitation Raevyn stepped forward and only brushed the woman's fingertips before they were spinning away. It was horrible, this was nothing like how she appeared at places, she felt like she was shoved into a tiny tube and it was set on blend mode while she was in there. Just as she recognised the horrendous feeling they had arrived and she was spat out. She had arrived to a brick bloody wall. Before she could say anything the professor had started rapping on the bricks like a bloody loon, she was almost embarrassed. However the wall soon melded away and there stood the most bizarre and exciting thing she had ever seen.

A wizarding market, well street... A wizarding high street? Yes! That's what it was. The buildings were a skewed and looked to be falling down stylishly, colours were deep and rich and gold accented everything, absolutely everything. It gave the impression the street was gleaming, the sun which only seemed to shine inside this high street as just before it was grey skies, glinted off the gold and highlighted the many robes the witches and wizards were wearing.

'Holy fuck.' She both mentally muttered and verbally muttered in her shock.

Professor McGonagall looked scandalised beside her before moving briskly onwards. Striding forwards to catch her, Raevyn took in everything in the street, the brooms to the cauldrons, the vendors promising all sorts for a price and now that she was in a magic alley, she found herself being won over by them and their promises. She did however notice how different she was dressed to everyone else, the wizards and witches darting about in their robes while she waved through them in her torn dark jeans, biker boots and leather jacket. They fitted her perfectly but they made her feel like a fish out of water, she couldn't see herself coming home with robes though... No definitely not. How would those people run if they needed to? Or how the hell would they fight? The sleeves would definitely get in the way, never mind the length of the actual robes!

They'd stopped outside a shop, well the professor had stopped and she had nearly mowed the professor over but had managed to stop just in time, though had in fact managed to gain a very uncomfortable closeness to her. Personal space was important to wizard and witches as well it would seem. It was a dusty looking shop, in fact it almost looked derelict, the once gleaming gold lettering at the top were flaked and worn.

"Ollivanders Wand Shop, makers of fine wands since 382 B.C."

'A wand? They use wands?' She was slightly confused, why would they use a wand? Why not just use their hands?

Nether the less she followed the professor into the shop and was immediately met with the odour of must and dust, coupling that with her hangover she nearly vomited all over the lazy man's shop.

"Hello well isn't this unexpected!" A stooped man appeared out of the many many aisles of selves. He wispy white hair stuck out in all directions and she was sure that the strength of those glasses was prescription only, the strength of them must be mad to give the man such a bug eyed deranged look.

Squaring her shoulders and clenching her fists she stared at him, refusing to speak. It wasn't necessary apparently as McGonagall ploughed ahead.

"Ollivander! I have a new student here for Hogwarts and she is in immediate need of a wand. I shall leave her in your capable hands as I have business to attend to. I shall return shortly." She had already turned and exited before either one could object, especially before Raevyn could object.

She was left staring at this strange, bug eyed, dusty little man.

"How curious, a fully grown witch entering Hogwarts, it's been a long long time since that has occurred. The castle rarely ever makes mistakes..." He had trailed off and disappeared down a random aisle before she could respond, though she didn't think she would to be fair so she didn't hold it against the strange man.

Returning quickly carrying a box and whipping out a wand he reverently presented it to her, "Phoenix tail feather, yew, 12 inches, rigid. Ideal for defensive spells."

She stared at him. Just stared. What the bloody hell was she meant to do? Bow to the bloody thing? She heard a laugh echo through her head and she almost cursed at it, she was much too confused though.

Sighing Ollivander held it out more to her, "Gave it a wave then dear!"

With a moment's hesitation she gripped the wand, and immediately she wanted to throw it out of her hand. Gritting her teeth she waved the wand.

The wand exploded.

Not in a fountain of sparks and pretty colours, no it exploded in a burst of splinters and heat. She didn't think this one was for her.

"Oh my!" The little Ollivander man ran into an aisle and scuttled back with another box.

To say she was hesitant was an understatement.

"Dragon heart string, oak, 13 inches, this one's particularly good with offensive spells." Looking at her expectantly she sighed and gripped the wand.

And that was all she was able to do before it too exploded, a bigger explosion, a greater amount of heat; in fact she was pretty sure her hand was burnt. Was being a witch meant to be this hard?

"What on earth?" He was already scuttling away with surprising speed muttering the whole way.

This time it took him a while to come back but he did come back looking confident, "I've deduced it was the cores of the wands that you weren't compatible with, after all you're a fully grown witch so your magic is of course fully developed. My fault entirely my dear! Don't fret! We'll get you a wand, you're not even my hardest customer to date, in fact there was this one wizard in 1817-"

She cut him off quickly, not wanting to prolong this, or injure herself further, "That isn't my wand."

Ollivander looked mollified, "You haven't even tested it child, here, give it a wave and see." He sounded quite cheery as he tried to place the wand in her hand.

Jerking her hands back she shook her head vehemently, no this was definitely not her wand. She could almost feel the explosion waiting to happen.

"Child I assure you! This is the perfect wand. Willow wood, unicorn hair-"

"No. That's not my wand."

Still trying to forcibly put it in her hand she heard a snarl rip through her mind scape, no she definitely didn't want that one, especially that one in fact. Deciding she wanted space, a lot more space than what he was giving her, she waved her hand in front of her; resulting in Mr Ollivander being pushed back a good three feet.

Both stared at each other for a few moments, Raevyn's face closed off while Ollivander looked shocked first then narrowed his eyes.

"No, I guess it's not." Ollivander straightened, keeping his eyes on her. "I don't know what to tell you dear, it seems that all the cores I have, you are incompatible with."

She too was at a loss. It would seem that every witch and wizard was meant to have a wand, yet it would seem that she wasn't getting one. She couldn't show up to this school with no bloody wand!

"What about a fake one?"

This only enhanced Ollivander's confused look, "I'm sorry? A fake wand?"

"Yes, so I can pretend to use that one so not to look out of place. A fake wand."

Ollivander frowned, as it would seem he did not like the idea of giving her a fake wand, "My dear there has never been a case where we at Ollivander's have failed to place a wizard with their wand, this is unprecedented."

'Yes well now there has been.' As she was exercising her right to be as sarcastic and dry as she wanted in her own head her mouth was a head of her, "Are you able to give me a wand with no core in it? You've got to have one sittin' around here somewhere."

Grumbling and mumbling, Mr Ollivander slowly walked down the seventh aisle before becoming lost in the dusty haze that seemed to settle in the very air. She was left standing there like an eejit, this wizarding world didn't seem all that inviting so far, maybe she just met the wrong people, or maybe everyone was having an off day... Like maybe it was some famous witches death anniversary today and here she was, lumbering around making racket and asking for things undone.

'Look on the bright side. Find the silver lining.' Her mantra, one of many as she enjoyed them far too much, looped round her head.

Yes, she'd give this world a go, even if she got to this school and it was utterly shit and the people were horrible, she'd stay the first term and then if everything went tits up, she'd go home and forget about the whole thing. Yes. She had a plan of action, something to work with.

"Here. Just a hollow blackthorn, nothing at all in it, not even a wisp." He sounded quite sad that she'd be leaving with this.

She couldn't really care though as she was trying to subtly check that she hadn't just shit herself, the bloody man appeared from right behind her; on purpose she was sure of it!

"Great. How much?" Short, sweet and to the point.

He looked forlornly at the piece of wood, before deciding, "Well I suppose since its hollow, 4 galleons if you please."

Her heart stopped. They had a different currency?

"Bollocks." She whispered before looking the man in the eye and assessing her options. She could steal it, even with magic she could feel he was long gone out of his prime and wouldn't stand a chance, though she didn't know how the law worked here, that was not something you just wanted to jump into blind when magic was incorporated into it. Simply explain the situation to him? Ask him to keep the thing behind the counter while she went out and found some way to convert her sterling into... Galleons? Why didn't that professor tell her this!

"I afraid I don't have you're currency," trying her utmost to be polite, "could you hold it for me while I go and change my money?"

Ollivander frowned and for a second she thought he was going to yell and scold her for being stupid before throwing her fake wand into one of the many aisles behind him. He just nodded his head however and instructed her to go to the bank and ask for her money to be changed. With a nod of thanks she went out to find said bank.

'Gringotts... Gringotts, now that's a name and a half! Where the absolute fu-'

Her mental commentary was interrupted when she caught sight of this infamous Gringotts.

'Jesus Christ...' Now this! This was a bank! Her awe subsiding she felt her excitement bubble over. It was inlaid with gold, and by the looks of it, it was real gold, not that gold leaf shit, no the real deal! Thick and shiny pieces of solid gold. The bloody doors were gold!

'Holy mother of Christ! Wait till I tell Ciaran! Holy sweet fuck!' She could feel her hands starting to sweat, all that gold, just lying there... Some things probably small enough to fall into her pocket... She was going to have a heart attack, all the gems in there, all the gold, god knows what else! She was going to collapse.

Deliriously she almost floated to the solid gold front doors and nearly started salivating right then, it was really real solid gold! Floating on through she licked her lips as she caught sight of the front foyer. Emerald gems were scattered loosely into the flooring, streams and rivers of gold flowing around them, specks of rubies and sapphires were placed among them, like precious, priceless glitter had been scatter across the floor. This was it, this was heaven, she had been killed by that dusty old man because of that wand business, and she was completely okay with it! Oh yes, she was in fact happy about it. Only half resisting the urge to lay down on the floor she walked forward to one of the desks that where quite highly placed, balancing on her tip toes she tried to look over the counter.

"May I help you?" A voice croaked from above her, nearly scaring her half to death, again.

Looking up she was intrigued to see a... A gremlin or goblin of some sort. She'd read the 'Spiderwick chronicles' a few years back, not by her own will mind you, mama Lani made her but the point being! They looked like the creatures in the book, only these looked more vicious.

"Hello."

It merely sneered at her in response, and here she was thinking she was being excessively polite.

"I'd like to exchange my sterling into your galleons."

Looking at her for a moment it snarled at her, "Do you have an existing account?"

This... creature was really starting to aggravate her, "No."

Once again, it sneered at her, "You must have an existing account before making any transactions."

Growling at it before it could growl at her again, "Well then I would find it delightful to actually create an account from which I could be able to convert my sterling into galleons."

She was horrendous at this legal, technical jargon but by hell or high water she would get her galleons, and if she had to wring these creatures' necks, then by fuck she would. Squaring her shoulders and locking eyes with the... Goblin with the intensity to drill through a bloomin' wall.

"Shall we?"

She was exhausted, buzzing with adrenalin and bemused slightly. Those goblins had given her a fight at every turn, and she'd nearly thrown the towel in on numerous occasions but she had gritted her teeth and hey presto! She was now the proud owner of vault 379, though she really didn't have all that much in it, but that was beside the point. She now owned a vault in a wizarding bank, which she'd be able to fill up quite quick. Oh yes, those goblins would soon warm up to her when they noticed irregular sums of money going into it in large amounts. She'd see to it that it was filled, by any means necessary. The personal aggravation it caused her to learn the exchange rate of one pound sterling into wizarding currency- it had nearly toppled her. She was dirt poor, even after putting a good chunk of sterling into it. Although the whole procedure was frustrating in general, the goblins were sticklers for the rules and in her case, they couldn't get past the fact that she couldn't supply them with a surname. She just didn't have one, she had a middle name, she had a first name, but a surname; she just... Didn't have one. It was difficult to explain, she knew she had one but she didn't, because she couldn't remember it and she couldn't give herself another one; it literally refused to come out of her mouth. They instead, after an hour of irritated goblins running in and out and books the width of her head being slammed onto desks, they had decided to take a vial of her blood.

She was of course hesitant about that idea, they assured her however that half of it would be used to establish an identity that the bank could use and the other half would be used to create a key that would only open her vault with her express permission, and she'd be allowed to watch it being done. It appeased her somewhat.

That being done and dusted, at least two hours later, she left the establishment and promptly whipped out her battered and ripped list of necessary materials and worked her way down the alley like a champion- well she thought so anyway. After picking up her fake wand she had spent at least an hour discovering the alley as she bought all of her necessities. She had found a sweet shop and immediately grabbed two handfuls of chocolate frogs and sweets that apparently make you sound like various animals, yes her and Ciaran would get a laugh out of them for sure. During the process of buying her school books for the year she had browsed the store looking for history books and books on wizarding culture, as well as anything else she thought might bring her up to speed in this new world. She refused to allow herself to walk into this school ignorant! Everything went without a hitch and then predictably snagged when she went to buy some school robes. It would seem she'd have to swallow her pride and come home with robes, and she was still sore from it.

She didn't like them, they were frumpy and coarse and just... Boring, they were so bloody boring! She hated them! And that was further enhanced by the fact she'd noticed that when she bought those robes she was down to her last 5 galleons and 7sickle things.

She'd went back to Ollivander's to ask if the professor had been back in to look for her, after finding the elusive wispy man he'd informed her that she hadn't. No skin of her nose, if the woman had forgotten about her then that just meant she didn't have to exchange or ignore any unwanted pleasantries or endure any more of the woman's disapproval. And she could just pop back home! Which speaking of, she could do right now. She was positively dying to watch Ciaran try and eat a chocolate frog, and see his face when it jumps away from him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the next chapter, I hope it's okay.**

**Dear Tommy B; thanks very much for the boost, it was greatly appreciated.**

She appeared right in Ciaran's hall way. Her arms tired due to all her bags and packages, which led her to a thought, why didn't those wizards and witches have bags? She never saw any of them walk out of a shop carrying a bag or package, like the ones she was handed, no they walked out of shops with lovely free limbs; unlike herself.

Now that she was standing in his hallway, she felt awkward. She'd just walked in, well popped in. What if he was with someone? What if she wasn't wanted right now? He could be busy and she'd just presumed and popped in and she had abused the trust he'd-

"Rae-Rae? You're back already?"

His voice brought her back from her irrational inner moral dilemma, "Is this a bad time?"

Raising his eyebrow at her, he was silent for a second, "Get in here you idiot! I need you to try my new one, I think it's done."

Excitedly he walked back into the kitchen that was straight ahead. Dumping her bags and packages and whatever the hell else she meandered in after him. The kitchen was the way it always was, if a little messier, but only just if any.

Ciaran's kitchen was not a normal kitchen, he'd no use for the thing to actually cook dinners or lunches, he had the microwave for that and he had a fridge for his sweets and fruit. What the kitchen was actually used for was borderline illegal, but only borderline and she couldn't talk as her past times didn't even qualify as borderline. He didn't hurt anyone and he didn't sell it, he was merely curious. Ciaran used his kitchen to mix and mess with substances, rarely class 'A' substances unless he was certain they would have the desired effect on what he was working on. His selves were lined with all sorts of things, from Angelica to Zanza root, powdered acid to salvia, Weed to Mugwort. It was filled with a cacophony of substances. This was what he loved, mixing things, trying to create new things that helped people, chemistry was the only subject in school he had ever paid attention too, because he was actually interested in it, it astounded him what you were able to do when mixing little things. For instance, plain old water, just a glass full, and a tiny pinch of potassium created an explosion that would vary depending on how much potassium you used.

Glancing at his kitchen table she read the labels on the jars, which were just washed out old jam jars, to see what he was cooking up. Belladonna, Agrimony, nettle leaves, paracetamol and some sort of root that she couldn't name or read the label. Whatever it was, she was sure she would be telling him off in a minute, for Belladonna was ridiculously dangerous to work with, it was lethal, if you got the measurements wrong then it would kill you.

"What've you got?"

He grin was infectious, his eyes dancing he practically sang, "I've got it! Remember when I tried it before it knocked me out for a few hours-"

Her eye twitched, "A few hours? Ciaran you were out for a day and a half, your body temperature plummeted, I nearly died with the stress!"

For a second he looked sheepish and almost, almost apologetic, though he quickly shrugged it off and was back to being ecstatic, "Regardless, I've worked out what was wrong! It wasn't the Belladonna! It was fine, perfect in fact. Any less would have been over powered by the Agrimony, the side effect of the Belladonna-"

"Death. Death is not a side effect."

"Hush up!" Levelling her with a look, she nearly sniggered at him, "Now do you want to hear what've managed to do or not?"

Laughing she held her hands up in surrender, "My apologies master! Carry on, if you please master."

He pinned her with a gaze again before lighting up in a smile and his brow furrowed in the ghost of frustrations a he recounted the confusion, "I couldn't work it out, the Belladonna was necessary, the Agrimony was necessary, the nettle leaves acted to repress the effects of the large amount of Agrimony on the stomach. So what was I missing? I'll tell you! It was the hangover, which you caused by the way!"

Indignant she put her hands on her hips, "That's bollocks! I asked if you wanted to! You could have said no!"

Carrying on as if he hadn't heard her, "And I reached for the paracetamol for the banging headache you caused-" which caused a disgruntled noise from Raevyn, "I realised right there, I was holding it! The answer to what I couldn't work out! Plain old paracetamol! It would be the catalyst! And it was! Look!"

He held a large jar that was filled with a murky green coloured liquid, it was vile looking but he looked so happy, so proud.

"What have you created? What does it do?"

If possible, he lit up even more. "It's a painkiller, but a really potent one, that can be used for damaged nerve endings. The Belladonna specifically attacks nerve endings and eases pain; it attacks the nerve endings, weakening them for a very short period of time- which will dull the pain! Then it helps regenerate the nerves, the more Belladonna used the more potent and effective it is!"

He was so excited, like a child on Christmas morning, and she was proud of him, he'd been working on this for months now and it had been really bothering him, but she was pretty damn sure a nettle leaf just floated past in the jar and she felt a little queasy.

"You're one hundred percent sure it works without any fatal consequences?"

"One hundred percent! I can't believe I've managed it!" Setting the large jar of murky green and floating nettle leaves down he lunged at her and picked her up, whirling them both round in circles.

"I can't believe it!" Laughing so freely he continued to spin her; making her laugh too.

"I can, I knew you could do it." This stopped him and his whirling; he gazed intently down at her.

She hadn't realised their faces were so close, she could smell it on his breath that he had a peppermint tea and she could see the faint scar beside his lip piercing. She was going to hyperventilate, she couldn't deal with this, she was going to pass out or be sick due to the fluttering in her stomach.

Wriggling to get down she just said the first thing that came to mind, "I got frogs!"

Looking at her in confusion he plopped her down on the Lino floor and raised an eyebrow, "You have... Frogs?"

Feeling her cheeks heat slightly she cleared her throat, "Yea... I got frogs for us to eat."

She could see it on his face, he was lost, heck she was lost!

"You got frogs... For us to eat? Rae-Rae... Is this school in France?" He was completely confused, and it showed in tone.

"No they're sweets, chocolate frogs." She was growing redder, she could feel it; this was so embarrassing! Her hair was starting to crackle with energy she was that embarrassed, which of course, Ciaran noticed.

"Ah... Rae-Rae, your hair's sparking." He gazed at her hair curiously, there was small electric currents starting to spark and run through it.

Turning on her heel she went to all those bags and parcels, trying desperately to hoke out the sweets. After a few tense and awkward moments on her part, she rose victorious from the bags and handed him a chocolate frog. Gazing at it curiously before looking at her with a smile.

"You promise this isn't an actual frog covered in chocolate?"

"No." Levelling him with a stare she was so sarcastic she wondered idly if there was an award for this level of sarcasm, "This is of course an actual frog, a bull frog in fact, that is smothered in chocolate and is just waiting to hop out and croak at you."

Laughing slightly he fiddled with the packaging, "I'd love to try this witchy treat... I can't open it though."

Looking at her for help, through his lashed again, he held it out to her.

Not wanting to open it herself, due to the fact the frogs apparently jumped out she shrugged her shoulders, "Squeeze it slightly to try and pop it open?"

Frowning in concentration he did so and the little pentagram purple box opened, the frog was still just long enough for Ciaran to brush his fingers on it before it leapt, and quite a leap it was too!

"Holy fuck!" Flinging himself back from the wildly bouncing frog, "Oh my god! Oh my god it's actually alive!"

Hitting his back against the hallway wall he managed to trip over his feet and land in a heap. Seeing this Raevyn doubled over, crying with laughter she had to support herself with one hand against the adjacent wall. Crying with laughter she fell to the floor, no longer able to hold herself up.

"You tried to feed me an actual live frog! It was fucking alive!" Staring to wretch; his voice reaching a high tone. "I nearly ate a live frog!"

Tears streaming down her face she howled with laughter, her laughs bouncing and echoing off the walls in the small hallway, the hollow walls creating quite good sound effects.

"That's it! You're not going to this fucking school! They try and feed you live frogs?" Slightly hyperventilating he held his hand against his chest and watched the now twitching frog like a hawk. "I'm going to be sick."

Uncurling herself, still giggling, she gazed at Ciaran who was in fact looking green, a sickly sheen had fell over his face.

"It's not a real frog!" She felt almost guilty as she looked at him now.

Still looking ill he looked at her incredulously, "It fucking moved!"

"I know, I know but it's just a chocolate frog with a spell on it."

Still looking at her in disbelief he shook his head, before quickly glancing at the still twitching chocolate frog and turned an even greener colour.

"Honest! The woman in the shop promised they weren't actual frogs!"

Sitting up she crawled over to him and kneeled in front of him, placing her cold hands on his forehead to try and cool him down.

"Eat it then! Grab it there and eat it!" He hadn't looked away from the twitching frog only glancing at her briefly as she attempted to cool him down with her cold hands.

Glancing at the thing twitching, her stomach churned, she couldn't eat that one.

"Fine, I will." Turning to root about in the bag to grab an unopened one she let one hand stay on his forehead as she stretched with her other hand to grab a new one.

"What's wrong with that one?" Gazing at her quickly with a challenge in his eyes, he gazed at the now dead chocolate frog.

"It's on the floor..."

With a dare in his eyes he gazed at her intently, "So?"

With a moment's hesitation she sighed, "The things I do for you!" Reaching round to pick it up she looked at it momentarily before shoving it in her mouth and chewed. Hearing it crunch she winced, before coming to her senses and realising that it was just the chocolate breaking.

Finishing with a swallow she opened her mouth to let him see, just chocolate remains, no blood or guts or god only knows what else.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

Gazing at her intently he sighed and shook his head before speaking, "I really don't like frogs."

"Yea I noticed," Stroking his cheeky comfortingly she felt immensely guilty, "want to tell me about that?"

Ciaran just shook his head, sighing she stood up and took his hands to pull him up with her. "Come see what I brought back."

Pulling him into the living room before going out again to grab her bags she brought them all back in to him, seeing his eyes widen her chest loosened slightly, she felt so guilty. She never thought he'd have a reaction like that, never in her wildest dreams did she think he'd freak out like that.

"Look! I had to buy all this! And now I've no money left!"

"Do they not have any scholarship program's set up for kids who are entering that world for the first time and have money difficulties?"

Again, she felt really stupid, "Uh... No?"

"Did you even ask?" Raising his eyebrow; which was what he always does! And it'll make her squirm and fidget, like right now!

"No..." Sheepishly she looked at him.

Sighing he patted the space beside him on the sofa, "Rae-Rae you're an absolute eejit."

Sitting down she shrugged her shoulder, "I know, I know but my head was all frazzled because of those goblins and the wand and-"

"Goblins?" Wide cotton blue eyes stared at her, "There's goblins?"

Nodding her head, her hair ruffling a tiny curl fell over her face only momentarily before Ciaran picked it up and placed it behind her ear. Clearing her throat, she explained in detail all about the bank and the gold, the creatures and the ritual and the gems and the ride down to her vault, promising to bring him the next time she went to the alley numerous times in her excitement.

"You'll love it! Everything's so weird and the things those people wear! It's hilarious! Some of the robes are pretty cool I suppose, I prefer my jeans though." Smiling she noticed him laughing slightly.

"What?" Shaking his head, Raevyn repeated again, "What? Tell me! What is it!"

"Nope, I don't think I shall!" Smirking at her he crossed his arms.

"What can I do to make you tell me?" Leaning forward slightly she smirked in response.

His smirk widening and opening up into a grin he leant forward shaking his head, "Hmm... Let me think. Nope, I don't think you could do anything to make me say."

Grinning at him she leaned forward a bit more to respond, though before the words escaped her mouth she froze, they were inches apart, she could feel it building in her chest; in a matter of seconds she was going to start hyperventilating. Before she could really get into the swing of looking like an idiot in front of him her phone went off. Whipping backwards they both separated.

Fishing her phone out of her back pocket she opened it to take the call. "Hello?"

The line was silent for a few seconds before a familiar voice sounded, pubescent sounding and irritating as always, Messer spoke. "You're in big trouble girl."

This is what made her want to kill him, slowly and violently. "Hello Messer."

She felt Ciaran stiffen beside her.

He laughed down the phone at her for a couple of seconds before he spoke again, "Little bitch is in so much trouble." He spoke the words as if they were endearments, "Little bitch has people baying for her blood. Does she know that?"

"I do."

Laughing again he spoke, "Oh she's so brave, she's so, so brave! Will she still be as brave when she's at the bottom of a river?"

Fuck he irritated her, he made her blood boil in fury, she wanted to kill him. Not rising to the bait she said nothing, letting him wait for a few moments just to piss him off before demanding an explanation.

"Cut the crap Messer, what do you want?"

She heard him growl down the phone, it always pissed him off that she'd never lick his boots; "You're wanted at a meeting."

Messer's little games were over for the time being it would seem, "And when would this be?"

"Tonight at ten."

Laughing just to piss him off she cut off the phone before sighing. She'd almost forgot all about that shit, all this talk of magic and goblins and frogs had made her forget about those bastards. It was her own fault though, she couldn't blame it on anyone else, she'd gone to them, begged them to let her prove herself, and they had, she had proven herself. But she was young, stupid, young and lost, and she was still paying the price for that stupid mistake four years ago.

Slipping his arm round her shoulder Ciaran hugged her to him, "Rae-Rae you eejit."

He sounded sad. She was sad. She didn't want to do that anymore, she didn't want anything to do with those people. Those stupid people, she hated them! All of them! But there was nothing she could do, and it was all her own fault. Leaning into his side Raevyn nodded.

"I am, I really am."

There was nothing he could say, nothing to make it better so he hugged her closer, one hand twirling a loose dreadlocked curl round his finger. The both of them just sitting in comfortable silence, Raevyn leaning against Ciaran in both mental and physical exhaustion while Ciaran held onto her, frown lines marring his forehead in worry.

"I'm tired, I'm so tired Ciaran."

His chest constricted, he couldn't hug her any closer or he'd crush her yet he still wanted too. They were both fools, she had gotten herself caught up in gangs and all sorts of illegalities and he couldn't get a job now due to past convictions, they were both going nowhere, and heading there at breakneck speed. They were stuck here, no money, no future and no one on their sides. Not that they deserved anyone, but they were just working class statistics that fact remained.

_"Wake up child. Drag yourself out of this self-imposed wallow, you have things to be doing. Rest later."_

Wanting to snarl at that damn voice in her head she breathed in deeply one last time before untangling herself from Ciaran and standing up, "Shall we go get some food?"

Nodding Ciaran stood up, "Where? I'm skint after last night and by what you said earlier, so are you."

Furrowing her brows in thought she placed a hand on her hip before coming up with a solution, "Lani was making a big pot of something yesterday, d'you want to pop over there?"

Ciaran liked Mama Lani, he really, really did but she frightened him. He was almost a foot taller than her and that little woman still managed to scare the shit out of him. Lately as well she had been giving him strange, meaningful looks and when Mama Lani gave you a look, you were to take heed. She was strange that way; knowing things. Frightening meaningful looks or not, he was hungry, starving even and there was no proper food in his house. He was always welcome there, so at least he wasn't taking advantage, so he'd just have to get over those looks.

"Yea sure, after you." His smile faltered however when he noticed Raevyn's smirk, her mischievous smirk to be precise, "What are you plotting?"

Grinning at him she explained, "Do you fancy literally popping over to Lani's?"

Narrowing his eyes in confused he stared at her, "Literally? As in... Your teleportation thingy?"

"Yea! You said you wanted me to show you things, this way you can experience it!"

Thinking it over briefly before nodding his head he grinned at her, "Well come on then! I'll be dead by the time we actually get there!"

Smirking she gripped his hand tightly and let her 'magic' take her to where she wanted to be. He felt like he was going to be sick, he felt like he'd just dissolved, atom but atom. He felt... Discombobulated, he felt like he was missing parts of himself; like there were foreign atoms buzzing about in tiny holes in his being.

Bracing himself on his knees he gazed up at Raevyn, "I'm never doing that again."

Hearing her laugh he watched as her feet walked out of view. The scuffed leather biker boots, with metal in the sole somewhere he was sure; she'd swiped him enough times with them for him to make an educated guess. He couldn't remember her not wearing them; they were her signature, apart from her hair. The only time she wasn't wearing them was when she was bare foot which, admittedly, was half the time. He chuckled slightly, she was something so strange; he still remembered seeing her for the first time.

{ _He'd just turned seventeen, well maybe not just but he was seventeen and he'd decided to get a tattoo as a belated birthday gift to himself, he knew what he wanted, but he also knew that for now he needed to just lay low and not antagonise his father. So instead of what he really wanted, he got something small. He got a scythe on his hand, in the space between his thumb and his forefinger, the design was simplistic and about three inches long. It was just to remind him that should he ever meet death, to go to him as you would an old friend; for what was Death if not an old friend? Bringing us back to a place when our souls were not so lost, when we knew no pain. What was Death, if not a friend?_

_He was sitting in the ripped, leather dentist chair. The artist had spray painted it black from its surgical teal colour and ripped off the head frame; literally the fella had ripped off. Clothed in his ratty jeans and T-shirt that had some sort of band insignia on it he idly bopped his foot to the tune wafting through the shop. Credence Clearwater Revival's 'Born on the bayou' snaked its way from the back of the shop to where he was seated. The man working on his hand, Andrew, had just finished laying the stencil on the back of his hand just right when a fella about his age walked into the shop followed by this scrap of a thing. Dressed in a long black leather coat and black slacks the boy that looked around his age swaggered from the door all the way over to the back of the shop, where he parted the hanging beads and strode straight on in. Personally Ciaran thought he looked like a twat._

_However what did take precedence over the idiot that had just walked past and the now stinging sensation in his hand was the slip of a girl that had followed him in. Much too young to be allowed in here without good reason. Studying her he guessed her to be around fourteen. Dressed in faded jeans, which were ripped and stained with blood at the knees, and a T-Shirt not unlike his- though he couldn't be sure due to the large leather jacket around her, she slowly and cautiously followed the twat that had just walked past him. Her fingers brushing over every glass case that were filled with everything from simple studs to large spikes and stretchers and things that made Ciaran flinch when he thought of where they were meant to go._

_Long, long jet black hair curled and tangled down her back like a thick inky mess. Clearly it had never seen a brush before. Curls and waves wrapped round locks of hair that had formed loose dreadlocks, her hair looked... Well it looked wild. Messy and untamed and erratic looking; matted in fact looking. Curling and flicking up at the ends, the longest of her hair seemed to reach the base of her back._

_She looked like a feral child. Eyes and head downcast, though even downcast her head still twitched as she looked around erratically from behind the curtain of her hair. She was small and skinny; her dirty black converse squeaked against the tile floor, dried mud flaked off her shoes with each step. The tongue of her left shoe he noticed hung so limply it flopped against the top of her shoe, exposing her bare ankle. So it was confirmed, feral people didn't wear socks. How they dealt with the blisters Ciaran never knew._

_As she ran her hand against the glass of the counter closest to his he saw the tattoo on her hand, where he in fact was in the process of getting his. He felt cheated somewhat seeing a tattoo in the exact same space on her where he wanted his. The image of a crowned, winged snake was seen clearly, the colour wasn't all that bright however, but he was able to tell that the snake was a mixture of black and red. Quite a shabby tattoo if he did say so himself, looked almost to be a home job. Noticing something else strange he double-taked. The glint of dull metal glinted in the light of the fluorescent rows of lights, looking closer he realised that her thumb nail had been replaced by a metal one, shaped like a long, pointed and really sharp thumb nail. The bed of the 'nail' was split; dried blood had caked itself into and around the nail._

_It was disgusting looking._

_Vile and barbaric, he nearly wretched as he glanced at it again. As she walked past him into the back of the shop he noticed the smell of fire and cigarette smoke followed her. She was strange, young and strange looking. He admitted to himself however that there was something... Interesting about her, the way she looked made him want to know more about her, there'd have to be some sort if interesting story there. Though he still thought the thumb nail thing was nauseating and he still thought she looked like she'd escaped the loony bin._

_"You're done kid." Andrew's voice had shaken him out of his mental musing._

_Hoping off the chair he checked his hand and smiled, thanked the man and with a glance behind him to the shaking hanging beads; walked out of the shop. He'd made his way to the park after that, wondering about the strange runt of a girl that had walked into Andrew's tattoo shop, with the weird tattoo and horrible thumb nails._ }

"Are you coming into sit down or are you going to be a pansy and whinge out there all night?"

Laughing to himself Ciaran took off his shoes and eased himself into the small kitchen. The minute kitchen table was circular and about two foot in diameter, only sitting four it was a tight squeeze for Ciaran, being the only tall individual in the kitchen. With Raevyn to his right and with a wince he realised that mama Lani was directly in front of him, there was no way of avoiding the woman's eyes now. Yet he still tried valiantly, instead of mama Lani's eyes he focused on the multi-coloured pastel butterfly's that were dotted about her hair.

Settling into his chair Ciaran resigned himself to his fate, he was too anxious of avoiding her eyes to actually avoid them. So, smothering an uncomfortable flinch he stopped actively trying to avoid the brown eyes of mama Lani and settle into his dinner, only now just realising that he was in fact ravenous.

* * *

Mama Lani had made bread and butter pudding for desert. She'd pulled it out fifteen minutes ago, judging by the state of it now there'd be one serving left... If even. Desert always went down a treat when you were in Lani's house; desert was the best bit. A new desert every time you came. He had just worked up the courage to ask for the last piece of the pudding when Raevyn lept out of her seat; effectively giving him a heart attack and causing him to shit himself at the same time- her talents knew no bounds!

"Where the hell are you going?"

Sending him a look from underneath her hair, one that made him suffer this horrendously uncomfortable niggling feeling that he should remember something of importance, and replied in a tone that did not match that look she gave him.

"Out remember? I have a message to run."

Throwing on her coat she flung her hair from underneath her leather jacket and gave her head a shake, grasping her hair in her hands she pulled out her red ribbon hair restraint to tie up her hair in a ponytail.

"I'll be back soon." Offering him a smile when she gazed at him, "Give'us a text to tell me where you are, so's I know where to head back to."

Mama Lani, whom had made herself predictably busy in the kitchen as soon as Raevyn had mentioned the need to go out finally turned round with a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip.

"Am I no longer good enough for you miss Raevyn?"

Having the decency to look chastised; Raevyn floundered in her response. Seeing the look on her face Ciaran nearly sniggered in amusement, but held it in so not to attract mama Lani's fierce gaze.

"It's not that! Honest Lani! It's just that..." Scratching the back of her neck, clearly grasping for a response, Raevyn looked the epitome of sheepish. "Well I would come back here but I don't know what time I'll be-"

Waving her hand dismissively mama Lani tutted, "Oh don't you worry Hun! I get what has you wanting to spend all your time away from here, but don't you worry, I won't take umbrage against you child! I know you just-"

Cutting her off before she could finish Raevyn had leapt to the door, "Right! No problem! I'll check in with you's later!" Ducking her head in embarrassment for some reason Raevyn was out the backdoor in a flash.

With mirth glittering in her eyes mama Lani turned to him, whom now noticed that he was all on his own, "Now child, come you in here with me." Already walking into the living room mama Lani brooked no denial.

"We have much to speak about." Feeling his heart drop at those words Ciaran gazed at the back door questioningly, would he get out that door? Would it be the best idea?

"Ciaran don't you run out that back door!" Ducking his head as if to avoid a spiritual swat across the head he started to walk into the living room to mama Lani. "Now there's a beer in the fridge, grab that and come have a chat with me."

So he did, idly wondering why there was a single beer in the fridge in the first place, neither she nor Raevyn drank beer, so why was there one in there. This! This is what he was talking about! 'Knowing' things... She may not be magical, but Ciaran reckoned mama Lani would obliterate someone she saw as a threat to herself or Raevyn. Oh yes... That little woman was a scary woman.

Walking into the living room, the 'Death march' playing comically in his head, he sat down beside mama Lani.

"So, what's this I hear about..."

* * *

She hated 'meetings'. Fucking hated them! It just consisted of her being baltic down to her toes and having to battle with the feelings of insignificance when surrounded by all those prats. All meeting like some famous mafia group in a clearing somewhere or an abandoned building, as if they were the leaders of real gangs, real paramilitaries and real rebel groups. They weren't, they were itty bitty fish in a big bloody lake and she was stuck with them. Incompetent assholes. She was so embarrassed every time she had to meet up with them, or if she remembered she was 'with' them. Gods it made her cringe.

Walking out of Ciaran and mama Lani's estate she rooted about in her coat pocket for her cigarettes and hastily lit one up.

_"You really need to stop those you know."_

Narrowing her eyes she spoke audibly now that no one was around, "What's it to you? Why would such an insignificant little thing upset you so?"

A growl grumbled through her head, rippling through her minds-scape and making her knees turn to jelly. She nearly dropped her feg as her hand shook.

_"You are a foolish child! It matters everything to me!" _

Her anger grew, this thing that lived in her head; it was always commanding her. It always demanded she do things, always dictated what her day would be like, it was just like those stupid morons she was meeting tonight! As her anger grew and mounted her cigarette, not even a third smoked, went up in flames.

Yelling in frustration, unable to direct it anywhere she threw her foot down in a temper, as it slammed against the earth black splinters and cracks spidered from her foot and where it made impact. Confused and intrigued she stared as the black zigged and zagged. Fascinated her mind grew numb, calm even as she traced the erratic lines with her eyes.

_"Child you do not understand. I've been with you for so long now, I get lost from myself."_ The voice paused, to her it seemed uncertain but she knew that was just her connecting human emotions to it, for it never felt anything. _"We have been linked for too long now, you were a babe when you made that vow and now, I cannot seem to remember how to wander free. It's been too long for me to ever remember I fear."_

She didn't understand; she never understood it. It was right when it always reminded her she didn't have a clue, it didn't make it any easier to accept but it was right. She didn't remember though, it always spoke of a time where she made a promise, but she couldn't remember this 'fateful night'. She thought it was talking bollocks and she was actually possessed, but there was nout she could do about that. And even if she could... She didn't think she wanted to, not when she really thought about it.

They were meeting behind the old Mace tonight, it was shut down a few years back due to a riot that got out of hand and protestors had got a little too friendly with petrol bombs. There was no money to fix it up so it was just left as it was, making it a perfect rendezvous point for lecherous men, horny teenagers and low level gangs of all kinds. A really lovely spot clearly!

Hopping over the fallen support beam she walked into the main building; her boots crunching on the broken glass and charred wood as she walked. The whole building wasn't much more than crumbling walls and a leaking, murderous roof. Moss and ivy crept slowly up and through the cracks in the walls, grass had started to make its way into the centre of the building, the odd patch of thistles had taken root randomly throughout the warehouse like space. Nature was steadily taking the place back.

"Little bitch actually came!" Spinning around on her toes she berated herself for allowing a creep like him to gain the upper hand over her.

Fixing her gaze on him she kept her mouth shut, knowing it would just piss him off more. Messer was an idiot, dressed all in black with a cocky smirk he just looked like an idiot to her. His black leather trench coat made him look like a creep in her eyes, but annoyingly he was... Pleasing to look at. She wouldn't say he was handsome... But he was pleasant to look at. He knew it though, which just made it so easy to hate him. Couple that with his personality and their past; it was as easy as breathing to hate Messer.

"Has a cat got her tongue?" His grin was sleazy as he looked at her. It made her want to punch him, right in the face.

She just cocked her head though, she had learnt years ago that staying silent pissed Messer off more and gave much more satisfaction that verbally sparring with him.

She watched him like a hawk as he walked towards her, he was tall... Well taller than her; which wasn't exceptionally hard given the fact she was practically a smurf. Ciaran was easily 4 inches taller than him though, which gave her a weird sense of pride that her Ciaran was taller than this sleazeball.

"Are you not going to speak? You've always so much to say little bitch." He was about two paces from her now and her skin was already beginning to crawl.

Taking another step towards her he lifted his hand as if to touch her face, "They're going to make you talk you know, they've all came to see you bleed tonight bitch. Let me hear you scream though, one just for me. Like last time."

He went to grip her hair but she was expecting this, to be attacked in some form so she had slipped a knife into her sleeve. She wasn't fourteen anymore. The knife that had been resting against her forearm was now digging into Messer's throat.

"Do you think, Messer, that I'd come here to take a beating?" Sneering at him she delighted in the sight of a drop of scarlet racing down the edge of the knife and onto her hand.

The idiot still tried to speak, so she dug the knife in deeper. "Off of someone like you?"

Smiling as he winced, which just made more blood fall, she found herself starting to enjoy the sight.

_"Dig it in deeper. Run it through, the boy doesn't need his tongue."_

As tempting as that did sound, she was rather disgusted at the idea of cutting Messer's tongue out. She could see however that he was now standing on his tip toes to try and ease the pressure of the knife that was digging into the underside of his jaw. Throwing her head back and laughing she twisted the knife a tad.

"I like the way you bleed Messer."

_"Remember! Remember what he did! That night. I remember. I remember what was done that night!_

She hated him, she never hated someone so much in her life though here she was; forced to see him whenever his father or he called. Like some sort of bitch she was forced to come when called. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to watch the blood pool as it escaped his body. She hated the bastard.

_"Run. Him. Through."_

Shaking her head forcefully she shoved him away and watched curiously as he fell to the ground. She wondered idly if she should be upset with herself, for what she couldn't be sure. For not finishing him off or for putting a knife to his throat; she couldn't decide.

"You're crazy bitch!" He was scrambling to his feet now, a rivulet of scarlet running down his neck and chest. "They're going to kill you now! You're dead! They'll pass you about first like a piece of meat before killing you!"

She forced herself to laugh at him, "I'm much more useful than you Messer, they wouldn't get rid of me, not yet."

Gritting his teeth he went to lunge himself at her but found himself to be on his knees in agony before he could get anywhere near her. Raevyn focused entirely on him, she focused on how she wanted him to feel; like knifes were nicking his nerve endings one at a time. She hated him, hated him with all of her soul. He was pathetic, a pathetic creep that prayed on people who are weaker than him but she wasn't weak now. No she was buzzing right now, her blood thrumming with Gods only knows what but fuck it was addictive. Faintly she was aware of the fact that his screams were getting higher, his throat was ripping possibly but she couldn't care. He hadn't cared when she had screamed herself raw.

_"Keep going. Break his mind. Snap it."_

There was a trickle of blood running down his chin; he'd probably coughed it up between screams. He was pathetic. Lifting her gaze from him and breaking her concentration she waited till he shifted himself to lie on his side so he could see her.

"There's no one coming is there? There was no meeting was there?" Staying where she was she asked him from a few feet away; she shouldn't bring herself to get any closer to him.

He wasn't able to respond, probably still feeling shockwaves of pain coursing through his body. She didn't care though.

"Was there!" The warehouse felt so eerie as she yelled, her voice bounced and ricocheted off the walls. The echo of Messer's screams having just barely died.

Coughing, a bit of spittle and specks of blood running down his chin, he answered, "No."

Feeling sick to her stomach she fought a sliver of fear down. She'd nothing to fear this time, no she was in control; he was the one on the ground in agony and if she wanted, she could kill him right now.

_"Do it. Finish the parasite off. It'll be so easy child!"_

She wanted too, she so wanted too but what would she do after killing him? She was pretty certain that this school wouldn't let her in if she was a killer on the run. It didn't strike her as that type of place to be quite honest. She could never come back either, if she did kill him, she could never see Ciaran or mama Lani again. They'd be out for her head. No she wouldn't kill him; she wanted too, but she wouldn't. Right now, she wanted to go back and go to sleep, and when she woke up everything would be okay.

So she did. She vanished right in front of him, left him there in agony; which was no more than what he had done to her. Appearing in Ciaran's living room and upon arrival seeing that no one was here she chucked her coat off and kicked her boots off before falling onto the sofa. After impact she felt it in her bones, that this sofa and her had a good strong relationship; it was always so comfy while she was always so willing. Within moments she was unconscious, he body aching and her heart hammering in her chest, she fell into a rare dreamless sleep.

What felt like hours later she woke slightly to feel herself being shifted, her head now resting on something instead of the sofa. She couldn't figure out what it was that she was lying on until she felt her hair being set free of its ribbon restraint and hands running through her hair.

"Hey Bo."

She didn't even bother to open her eyes, she could smell the herbs and his aftershave; she knew it was Ciaran. Her throat was dry as her voice cracked a bit; he didn't seem to mind though.

"Hey there Rae-Rae." His voice was soft, like burnt honey. Yes, she decided, Ciaran's voice sounded like burnt honey.

She was content to just lie there with Ciaran's fingers threading through her hair and they did, just rest there that is, until Ciaran decided she was relaxed enough to talk.

"Rae-Rae, there's blood on your hand."

Closing her eyes and pressing her head further into him she considered pretending to be asleep, she couldn't be bothered with the effort of ignoring him though, "I know."

Still carding his fingers through her hair he spoke, "How'd that get there?"

Sighing she pressed her head into his midsection, the heat he radiated was wild, "S'not mine."

Ciaran was silent for a while after that, unsure of where to go from that point. From the knowledge that the blood that was caked on her hand and arm wasn't hers and the relief that surged through him with the knowledge that it wasn't hers. Was it wrong for him to be glad that it wasn't her blood? Happy that it was someone else's?

"Okay then."

Raking his fingers through her hair he laid his head back onto the sofa and closed his eyes. It was okay if it wasn't her blood, she was all he cared about, not some random person that he'd never met before. It worried him somewhat though that he didn't care; there was no worry for whoever that individual was that owned the blood that was flaking off her arm; whether they were alive or dead. So long as she wasn't dead he didn't care. It was survival of the fittest out there, and if she got someone before they got her... Then what was the harm?

* * *

The weeks passed as they always did, Ciaran would be tinkering about with borderline illegal and highly dangerous materials in order to create something new all the while being berated by Raevyn for using deadly ingredients and testing them on himself. While Raevyn would flit around the country doing odd jobs in order to gather money up so her vault in Gringotts wouldn't be so depressingly empty when she went to this school.

Speaking of which.

"What's the date dude?"

At being addressed Ciaran's head shot up, the fuzz that once grew atop his head was now slightly longer. The pencil that was behind his ear and the big wide eyes, plus the various jam jars filled with Gods knows what added to the whole made scientist vibe she was getting off him. Laughing she repeated herself knowing he was a bit confused.

"Sometime in August. Not sure though." And that was him; straight back to the murky concoction he was working on.

Laughing at him she just nodded and checked her phone, 'Probably should have done that instead of asking Victor Frankenstein over there.'

August 29th. Fuck she had two days to get her shit together before she was away to this school. She didn't have much to pack, so she'd be alright there, she'd need a hand though. All the stuff the school wanted her to bring weighed a bloody tonne.

"Ciaran?" She found in times like these; when he was entirely wrapped up in a new project, to directly address him. "Will you help me with all my luggage?"

Straightening up he looked at her strangely, "To the taxi or something?"

It was her turn to look at him strangely, "To the school you twit."

There was a general air of confusion in Ciaran's kitchen that's actually his laboratory, "Where is this school of yours?"

She was stumped... She hadn't a clue. Jesus fuck! No one had told her where to go, where it was or how to get there. And she never bloody asked!

Groaning she gripped her hair with her left hand, the other hand tapping her fingers rhythmically. "Balls."

Dropping the long handled tweezers Ciaran walked round the table to stand in front of her, "What's wrong Rae? Of course I'm going to help you! I can't let you swan off to this prissy magic school without saying goodbye."

"I don't know where it is! I don't know how to get there! I'm so fucking stupid." Ciaran could see she was working herself into a state, the only way to wind her down before it got too bad was to snap her out of it with quick, direct instructions.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Gently tugging her hand out of her hair he lifted her face so she could look at him, "Now what you're going to do is go to this magic ally and get the information you need."

Attempting to shake her head and argue with him she went to open her mouth, Ciaran however got there first.

"Shush! Now go and ask those magic people where to go if you want to go to Hogwarts, think of it like getting the background before a job of yours."

Watching her closely he saw as she calmed down; her fingers no longer tapping and her breathing evening out.

"Okay, I'll be back soon."

Nodding his head reassuringly he let go of her chin, "Yes you will. Now... Why are you still here runt?"

Laughing softly she stood back and vanished before his eyes. He was never going to get used to that.

Shaking his head Ciaran turned back to his concoction. This one would hopefully be a homemade solution to an upset stomach. It wasn't anything big, he just wanted to see if he could do it. Curiosity and all that jazz. There was something about mixing things, making something useful out of a cacophony of ingredients, which calmed him down and focused his brain. If this had of been a subject in school, by fuck he wouldn't have left at sixteen with no qualification to speak of. It wasn't however, and it never would be.

'I wonder if Rae's new school does something like this... Maybe she could bring me back some weird magical ingredients or something.' Shrugging his shoulders he dropped a few Angelica leaves into his concoction; hopefully that would take the hit off the Turmeric.

Half an hour had passed and still there was no word of Raevyn, he tried not to worry but how long does it actually take to do something when you can just appear wherever you wanted? It couldn't take all that bloody long. He was imagining all sorts by the time she came back, which was just five minutes after he had imagined her being toasted by a loose dragon.

"Ciaran?"

Her voice seemingly appeared out of nowhere, though she had actually knocked on the open kitchen door upon seeing him so enraptured in a jar of lemon grass.

"Fucking hell!" Somehow he managed to glare at her while still looking like a doe caught in headlights.

Raising her hands in surrender she laughed, "I knocked first!"

Muttering to himself he placed the jar back on his selves, "Liar."

Still sniggering at him she defending herself, "Am not! I gave you fair warning Bo!"

Still grumbling he ripped tin foil and covered the bowl like container he was using for this new project and placed it in there fridge. Upon inspection there was currently three other large containers with heaven knows what in them.

"You know I'm glad you don't keep any food in your fridge... We'd have extra limbs by now if you did."

Chuckling slightly he closed the fridge door, "What're you talking about? I know about your sixth toe Rae-Rea."

Her face contorted in disgust, "I do not have a sixth toe! My feet are perfectly normal thank you very much!"

"Sure sure, whatever lets you sleep at night." He snorted at her face as he walked into his living room. He still heard her mutter 'Asshole' before joining him though; making him laugh.

Switching on the telly they flicked through the channels before settling on an old episode of criminal minds. They were just getting to the good part where the Santaria priest channelled the spirits in Reid's head, Ciaran couldn't focus however due to the fact that Raevyn hadn't stopped fidgeting since she sat down, every time she went to lean back she'd shoot forward again.

"What is wrong with you? Are those fleas bothering you again? Did Lani not give you your annual flea bath yet?"

Scowling but laughing at h she batted him with her hand, "Piss off you dog! If I had a chance of getting fleas I'd have caught them off you years ago!"

Smirking he pretended to clutch his heart, "You wound me cruel woman!"

"That I do!" She nodded her head to emphasise her point.

"Now seriously, what's wrong with you?" He poked her in the shoulder and watched her wince. "What've you done to yourself?"

Scowling this time for real she shrugged then winced, "I fell."

Matching her scowl Ciaran got up off the sofa and went into the kitchen. Raevyn's eyes immediately widened, 'Where's he going?' He came back however within moments with a jar of an off white paste in his hand and a wicked looking knife in the other.

"Go get changed into something where I can work at that shoulder." His face was stony, there was no argument she could give that would dissolve his resolve.

Nodding she stood up and went upstairs into the bathroom, it was strange... She was never upstairs. She felt like an intruder as she walked across his landing and into his bathroom. Shuffling out of her jacket she assessed herself in the mirror. Her wife-beater, dark blue in colour, covered up the bruise mostly... She'd have to take it off. Her face flamed at the thought. She was going to have a blush the whole way down her body by the time she got down to him. Shaking her head, she used her good arm to grip the back of her wife-beater and whip it off her. Standing there in her jeans and black bra she avoided the mirror, bundled her wife beater up so it covered her chest and walked down the stairs and into the living room. Avoiding Ciaran's eyes completely she sat down with her back to him.

He had to remain impassive. He had to remain impassive. He thought if he kept repeating this it would work, however he nearly lost the strained apathy when she walked in and sat with her back to him. A purple and green bruise blemished her dusty skin. Her back though... He was entranced. Her back piece splayed out from top to bottom and was entirely done in black and greys, the odd bit highlighted slightly in white ink.

A Valkyrie was painted on her back, furious and vicious looking it was posed like an avenging angel, the terrifying delight etched into its face was beautiful. Wild hair splayed down its back and writhed around it. In one hand was a curved blade while the other was just clawed and deadly looking with the nails like daggers themselves. At the Valkyrie's feet lay bodies and skulls, lost war helmets and fallen banners in the distance. The scene was of a Valkyrie roaming over a battle and tearing up souls. It was beautiful, horrifically beautiful in its own right.

However in the tattooed storm clouds a bruise was blemishing the whole scene. An ugly shade of purple and green coloured those storm clouds.

"This is going to hurt a bit okay Rae?"

She just nodded her head, her shoulders tensed in anticipation. Through trial and error they'd learned that yes, this salve he'd made did work; brilliantly actually but it had to be applied into the affected areas blood system. Steadying his hand Ciaran brought the knife up and made an incision in the middle of the bruise, from top to bottom of it. Feeling a touch of pride at the fact she didn't flinch he carried on.

"I'm going to put the paste on now okay."

He was talking for his sake as well as hers, it calmed him somewhat; kept the whole thing professional. Which of course was sorely needed as Raevyn, his Raevyn was sitting in her jeans and bra albeit her chest was covered up by her top, it didn't make the experience any less tense.

Smoothing the paste on evenly he capped the jar and instructed her not to move before going into the kitchen again. While returning with one less jar he did however have gauze and some sort of large white plaster in his hand. Bandaging her up took all of about three minutes. After finishing he lifted her hair up and tied it with the elastic band that was around his wrist to keep her heavy hair from grazing against the tender bruise and cut.

"It should be perfect by the time you go to that school if yours."

Watching her nod her head he sat back and went to out the left over gauze in the cupboard again. When he returned she was dressed and on her feet.

"Thanks dude, I'm gonna call it a night though for I'm knackered. I'll pop in tomorrow."

Only just finishing her sentence she vanished, probably back to mama Lani's he was sure. Her reasons were sound and she was sure she'd have to pack as well, but it didn't ease the ache in his chest. He couldn't explain this. They'd been mates for a handful of years now, he'd bandaged her up plenty of times and sure there was always curiosity and maybe... Maybe a bit of attraction but now... Fuck now his head was consumed. It was this magic business he was sure!

Every time he said that though, he felt like smacking himself; he knew it wasn't. There was genuinely something there, and he wanted it, whatever it was that was between them he wanted it. But how could he if she kept back away like a scared animal... Or now the fact she was going off to some magical school. How the hell was he going to keep her then?

'She isn't yours to keep.' He knew it was true, he knew that inner voice of his held all of his sense but it didn't help any.

She was no longer that intriguing runt of a girl. She was this smoky, magical firecracker of a girl... And he was falling, falling so damned hard he was embarrassed and frustrated with himself. There wasn't anything he could do though, he couldn't push her away. He didn't want to. He'd just go with it; see where this road was going. He just prayed that this magical world didn't pick her up and swallow her, leaving him out here on his own.

**Are these chapter lengths okay? I don't want them too short but i don't want anyone to get bored due to their length. I apologise for any grammatical errors, even when you go over a piece of work numerous times you still can't see all the mistakes. Hogwarts is coming soon, I promise. Once again thanks for reading. Also, constructive criticism is always welcome, how else would we learn, but please don't flame. The confidence that can be destroyed in very little words is immeasurable. Thanks for giving me a few moments of your time!**


	3. Chapter 3

He had ruined it. He wasn't sure how he'd ruined it yet, but it felt like he had. She had ran away, rather slowly albeit but still she had ran away from him; something she hadn't done in a long, long time. It stung and panicked him.

'I shouldn't have said anything.' Tiredly, Ciaran rubbed his face. 'Should have just let it go. Should have known better for fucks sake.'

Gnawing at his lip Ciaran twitched as he sat, almost ripping out the little ring on numerous occasions, and started to count. He was tired; his whole body shook with fatigue as he tried to calm his heart. It had been so long. Feet firmly planted to his living-room floor he laid back on the sofa and started to bite his nails. The wind outside had begun to mount and swell tearing into the houses and whistling in under the doors; excitedly gorging itself on the heat, leaving inhabitants like Ciaran shivering. 'Summer' it may be, and it may be August but it was still Scotland.

'What if she doesn't come back?' Bouncing his knee in time to a phantom melody in his head Ciaran tugged at his fuzz. 'She's going to go off to this fucking school and not come back. She's going to leave. That fucking world is going to steal her.'

Sucking in a breath Ciaran held his head in his hands and tugged roughly on his hair. The taut muscles in his shoulders rippled and spasmed in fatigue as he fought tears and attempted to bottle this whirlwind that was beginning to claw away at him again.

Looking like a desperate man to the phantom onlooker, Ciaran sat hunched over with his head in his hands. His knee bouncing more vigorously he attempted to drag in deep breaths into his sore chest but it was like trying to haul back a rising tide. He felt like he was drowning. It was stupid and it was irrational but he felt like he was spiralling out of control again. He was spilling out of the dams he'd built, leaving the off-balanced feeling he'd started to experience since this whole revelation more room to grow. The drafts whistled through the house and snaked around his bare toes making goose-bumps rise up his arms. The onlooker gazed inquisitively at him, their sentry post being the small patch of carpet behind the sofa, providing a perfect vantage point for their watch. Releasing his head only with his left hand he began to chew at his nails again drawing blood from a hangnail.

Fuck he wanted some.

It wouldn't hurt anyone; just settle his nerves a little bit. Calm him down and sober him up, make him sharp as a tack. He'd only do one. Just one and he'd pour it all down the sink the very moment he was done with it; it wouldn't even be hard to do it.

'It wouldn't make a big difference, one's hardly going to kill me and it's not like I'm going back to that.' Standing up he walked into the kitchen, bare feet slapping against the floor he only made it to the hall way before he stopped. Leaning against the wall he tugged at the hem of his T-Shirt. 'This is stupid. She said she'd never leave, that this was her home." Biting his nails once more Ciaran bounced his leg as he stood. 'And she said she'd keep in touch, it isn't like I'll never speak to her while she's there.'

His house was cold, ridiculously cold in fact and it brought him out of his thoughts for a brief second. There was frost creeping up his windows racing competitively against the condensation that was rapidly sheeting the glass. It was strange. August was rarely this cold, even for Scotland's deranged weather, it never got this bone chillingly cold so why was it so damned frosty in his home? Sliding down the bare wall of his hallway Ciaran let out a hiss as his skin scraped against the chilled drywall, settling rather awkwardly Ciaran drew his knees up to his chest- his foot now tapping in an erratic rhythm. The onlooker moved through the sofa to peer at Ciaran from the doorway, their hazy shape almost blurring into the colours behind them.

'I need it, just this once. Only this once.'

His skin itched; it was like there was thousands of little electric ants doing circuits under his skin making it crawl. Fingers twitching Ciaran clambered to his feet, an unearthly chill lapping at his heels, and dragged himself to the kitchen. His jars were strewn haphazardly and randomly, small mounds of herbs and leaves were stationed across the counter tops and table like sentinels. Leopards bane. Arrowroot. Death-nettle. Black Cohosh. None of them were what he was looking for. They weren't what he needed.

Gazing at the mounds of herbs passively the onlooker cocked their head, trying to interpret what he was doing. Why he was doing it. Jars were being smashed as the boys shaking hands couldn't grip them, contents being spilled; some spilling to form puddles, others formed dusty coverings. The boy's shoulders shook now. The onlooker was confused, the boy shook and shuttered as he knocked over jars but he still didn't stall. He was looking for something.

'It's here. I know it is. I left some, hid it away. Where is it?'

His eyes prickled as he searched for the little jar with a tin foil cap unsuccessfully. It was just this _once._

Hands circling a petit glass jar Ciaran almost let out a hysterical laugh as he slid down the cabinet door. Resting on his kitchen floor Ciaran gripped the little jar with such ferocity his knuckles almost matched the face of the onlooker. Even resting his back against the cabinet he couldn't gather the strength to hold himself. Letting his head fall onto his knees Ciaran lifted his arms and cradled his head, the room was spinning, his chest seared and his stomach roiled. He was so _tired_.

'Just this once.' he sobbed, his face glistening unknowingly to the onlooker, 'It's only this fucking once.'

* * *

_I know this is only a wee tote of a chapter but I felt that by lumping this in with the next chapter made it seem insignificant, which isn't my goal. I'm working steadily on the next chapter, and if anyone is readying this- Thank you. The next chapter will be up soon enough if all goes well._

_Just a warning, this story will contain really, really colourful language because of where my character is from. Just a heads up!_


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